


Key Prompt: Woodstock

by tisfan



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Concerts, Festivals, Howard Stark - Freeform, M/M, Mechanic Tony Stark, Woodstock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-11 02:18:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13514664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Bucky finds something unexpected while digging in Tony's desk.





	Key Prompt: Woodstock

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bill_Longbow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bill_Longbow/gifts).



The nice thing about being Tony’s boyfriend -- okay, well, Bucky had to admit there were lots of nice things about being Tony’s boyfriend (blowjobs in the elevator, the insane amount of money, the way Tony’s eyes lit up when he smiled, blowjobs, pretty much being able to use the man as a walking wikipedia and urban dictionary, and did he mention blowjobs? Because Tony had just given him a hell of one that morning on the way back from the weekly SHIELD status meeting, and yeah, wow. Better than coffee for waking up in the morning.) -- was that you never knew what you were going to find.

Looking around in a spare desk for a ruler (how could Tony not actually have a ruler? Sure, Bucky knew he probably had a million different things that were more technologically advanced than a ruler for measuring, but all Bucky wanted it for was trimming down the indoor trebuchet kit that he and Barton were building for the sole purpose of launching water balloons at Steve and Sam) Bucky came across a framed piece of memorabilia. Nothing he thought -- and then he stopped and actually looked at it.

“What is this?” Bucky said a few minutes later, having located the wayward genius -- under the sink, fixing the disposal, of all things.

“Hmm, what, babe?” Tony did not climb out from under the sink, just his long legs, covered in grease smears, and bare feet sticking out.

“Come outta there so I can look at ya when I’m talkin’?”

Despite Tony’s put upon attitude at having to crawl out from under the sink, he knew and Bucky knew, for that matter, that gaining Tony’s attention was a difficult task. If Bucky waited for Tony to be done, he’d probably still be waiting in three days, because fixing one kitchen appliance would remind Tony that he wanted to upgrade the fridge, and while he was at it, the toaster had been a little glitchy and… and.. And…

“Hmm, cupcake?” Tony emerged and Bucky almost lost the ability to think coherently. Tony was wearing an absolutely drenched and filthy tank top, his gorgeous biceps gleaming with sweat and smeared with oil. The thin cotton fabric clung to every muscle in his chest, and as he stretched and twisted once free of the confines of the cabinet, all of those muscles were on display.

Bucky kept his tongue in his head with an effort, waving the framed photographs and ticket stubs at him. “Jus’ doesn’t seem like Howard’s style, a concert t’ end war and free love an’ all that.”

“Okay, first off, whatever hippie-dippy love-fest ideal that Darcy Lewis might be selling you on, Woodstock was a for profit venture,” Tony said. He ran one hand through his sweaty hair, making it stick up in all directions. “I mean, if there’s two things hippies hated, it was war and profits. If we were going for three things, it would have been war, profits, and insane boy bands from Puerto Rico, but we’re not counting that high today.”

“‘Xactly why I wouldn’t think _Howard Stark_ would be involved in Woodstock,” Bucky said.

“Woodstock might have been one of the greatest cons ever pulled, honestly,” Tony said. “And not just on the concert-goers. But seriously, Woodstock was started by a couple of suits -- a pharmaceutical guy and a lawyer from Yale. They placed an ad in the Wall Street Journal: _Young men with unlimited capital looking for interesting, legitimate investment opportunities and business propositions._ Now, this was before the age of the Internet, so instead of getting swarmed with male prostitutes and offers for penile enhancements, they got Michael Lang, a concert promoter. Probably no relation to our own Ant-Man, but maybe, because he sure was a hell of a swindler.”

“So, Howard got in on the investing to stick it to the hippies?”

Tony chuckled. “No. Honestly, people have the worst view on Howard’s motivations. He was a shit father, an absent husband, and kind of an all around douche, but that’s not because he was particularly out to get anyone. He just… loved _things_ more than he ever cared about people,” Tony said. He wiped his hands off on a rag and it was debatable whether his hands or the rag came out ahead in that particular exchange.

“And he ended up at Woodstock, how?” Bucky looked down at the picture. The Howard there was a lot older than the one he remembered, and younger than the one that was pictured in some of Tony’s childhood moments -- there was a huge bioic that had featured what Bucky thought of as _old Howard_ that Tony had watched when it came out. And then spent the entire night drinking himself sick.

He was about fifty, maybe, hair still more pepper than salt. The tiny little moustache he’d worn during the war was fuller, more walrus-y. Didn’t quite venture into porn-stache territory, but really, only because Howard was too old to star in those sorts of pictures anymore. He had a girl on one side -- not Tony’s mother, Bucky noted -- and what looked like a bodyguard of some sort on the other. The fourth person in the picture was Jimmie goddamn Hendrix, and while Stevie might not have preferred music that had been recorded anytime after the late 1940s, Bucky had a great appreciation for the electric guitar.

“So, the whole thing was a mess,” Tony went on, “half a million people and maybe negative three bathrooms for every ten thousand. No food after the first day. The music talent had to be flown in by helicopter because the roads were backed up for hours in all directions. Which is how Howard happened to be called on. Stark Industries had just churned out about two dozen military grade choppers, and they all happened to still be in their bays, right here in good old New York.”

“Which is how Howard Stark ended up with his arm around Jimmie Hendrix?”

“It was their maiden voyage. Of course Howard wasn’t going to miss it,” Tony said. “He loved to fly. Even after everything that happened with Cap putting the Valkyrie down in the ocean, Howard loved to pilot. Pretty much anything that had a stick, Howard could be found at one point or another sitting behind it.”

“Came by your love of flying honestly,” Bucky said, letting his mouth curve up into a suggestive smirk. “Love to get your hands on a stick?”

“I’ll get my hands on _your_ stick,” Tony suggested.

Bucky didn’t even bother to answer that, just pulled Tony into a kiss, grease and dirt and filthy water just adding to it. Maybe it was the honest labor that Tony did that got Bucky’s engine running, but the mess just added to the appeal.

They were still there, necking on the floor like a pair of horny teenagers, when Nat stepped over them on her way to make a pot of tea. “I’d tell you to take it to a bedroom,” Nat said, “but I keep being concerned you might take that as a challenge.”

“It’s my tower,” Tony said, not even trying to get out from under Bucky. “I can make out wherever I want to.”

 


End file.
